Darkstalkers Resurrection
by Shadow Wolf22
Summary: Reloaded and readableplease R
1. Default Chapter

Hello my name is Shadow Wolf22, and I do not own Darkstalkers they belong to capcom, but I do own my Ocs.  
  
Demona(OC): He really doesn't  
  
Donovan(OC as well): Trust us on this one.  
  
Shadow Wolf22: I'm not going to argue with them on this one, but I do own them o.k.  
  
The air grew cold, as the last few moments of twilight faded. The streets were still, the threat of the Darkstalkers still fresh in human minds. The darkstalkers of course had been gone for three years now, and only the faintest of their presence lingered. An occasional sewer creature, ghost, or demon bats were all that stalked the streets, or so most people though. On a night like tonight however not many would chance it.  
  
Ricky Loben had no choice in the matter. Ricky raced down the empty streets, down ally ways, and any other path that would get him home sooner. Ricky cursed himself under his breath, Why had he stayed at Michelle's house so late? Remembering his girlfriend's smile told Ricky why, Because she is so hot and digs you, idiot! Ricky couldn't help but smile at that thought. Whatever his parents might do, it was worth it. Ricky stopped just down the road that ran to the church, behind his house. He caught his breath, not realizing he had run the whole way.  
  
"Hooowoo!" came an eerie call that sent Ricky jumping four feet off the ground.  
  
"What the .." Ricky began but was cut off by another call, this one closer, to close! Ricky thought as he once again began his dash toward home, into the dark created by the buildings. The buildings, mostly ruins seemed to loom over him.  
  
Then he saw it, matching his pace. He couldn't tell what it was, because it was clothed in shadow, but he was sure he didn't want to know. He ran lungs burning, screaming for oxygen but he dared not stop. Ricky looked again and it was gone, but Ricky knew better.  
  
The creature leapt, tackling him brutally. Ricky punched and fought, but found his fists hit muscle, hard as steel. In a blur of movement others appeared, creatures about seven feet tall, covered in hard, guard hairs and softer under fur. They were humanoid with long claws where the human fingernails would have been, and the head was clearly lupine. Werewolves he thought, pausing to look at the bright full moon that shone in the night sky. They each had a different fur color, except two browns that resembled each other enough that he thought twins. One of the browns had tackled Ricky and now stood proudly over the eighteen-year-old boy, its sharp teeth inches from the boy's throat. The other brown walked with inhuman grace to face the brown that pinned him. He snapped viciously and the other turned leaving Ricky all but forgotten to join against the other in battle. Ricky looked around and saw the fight had drawn several others; they stood around the two browns watching intently. Only a black and white werewolf stood watching. Ricky knew it was stupid but he tried to run, the ebony and ivory wolf simply watched, some emotion, Ricky wasn't sure, what burned in his eyes.  
  
Suddenly a strong, clawed hand pulled Ricky backward and he knew he was dead. Ricky tensed afraid, but was determined to see his killer, he turned and found himself looking into eyes that glowed with intelligence, they were the blue-green of the sea and had the same look the other wolf had. Ricky suddenly figured out what that emotion was, it was sorrow, then she ripped his throat out. As the life pumped from his open arteries, Ricky listened as they chorused " Hooowoo!" all except the black and white who looked pained, then Ricky Loben lay still, dead.  
Jon Talbain snapped awake, the call echoing in his ears. He looked down at his hands, the long dagger like claws had replaced his own human fingernails, and his body was covered in the coarse guard hairs of the wolf. Talbain was a werewolf. Talbain felt the instinct and mind of the wolf rise within his own. The wolf wanted to answer the call, to run, prey, and be as he saw it free. The man quickly struck the wolf down, back into the darkness of his sub consciousness. The wolf had his uses, but the man needed control in that moment. Talbain was ashamed the call had allowed the wolf to get so much control, even for a moment. Talbain got to his feet, leaving behind the sheet he had used as he slept on the floor; he had long ago learned that hotel beds were not for him, because cleaning people tended to ask to many questions about finding strange blue-gray and white hairs in the bed.  
  
As a werewolf, Talbain was a bit short, just over six feet but more than made up for it in strength and speed. In fact he could easily fight an opponent three to four times his own size. At that moment Talbain was glad his height was not that of the norm, the room's ceiling was not very high so he was sure to duck as he headed across the room toward the balcony.  
  
He stopped momentarily to watch the sleeping form of Felicia. The cat woman slept silently, her mane of luminous blue hair lay across her back like a second sheet. Talbain found himself staring, she was beautiful, and as he listened to her slow breaths and steady heart beat it reminded him how much he loved her. She had shown him that his blood was not cursed and that yes, his life did have meaning. She had given him a reason to fight.  
  
He wished he had been a man because he wanted to kiss her, but the werewolf's muzzle would not do. Talbain was pulled away from his reminiscing as the howl once again cut the silence of the night. Humans, he knew would blame the sound on the wind, but deep down they would know, but only he knew the call for what it was, the announcement of a victorious hunt. One hunt to many, Talbain thought as he stepped on to the balcony, the wolf paid him one brief visit to announce the all clear, after all who could use a wolf's senses better than a wolf. "Good-bye Felicia, I'll be back for you, trust me!" he said to the sleeping form in the bed. Then Talbain bound over the balcony railing and was indifferent as he fell eight stories to the ground below landing with a soft thud and disappeared into the darkness. 


	2. chapter 2

Shadow Wolf22: I don't own Darkstalkers, Capcom does, so please don't sue me. Demona: Even if you did sue him you wouldn't get anything, because he pretty broke. Donovan: I would use the words penny less myself, Mona. D&D: * both chuckle * Shadow Wolf22: ha-freaken-ha, lets just get on with the fic ok.  
  
The pack divided what was left of Ricky Loben; the pack leader had made the kill and taken the soft viscera as her share, all others had divided the meat as status in the pack allowed. The newest pack members had been left to clear what were meager pickings at best, all except the black and white male, which had been a member of the pack for less than two months. He had only been with them for six nights in his true werewolf form, but the pack leader openly shared her share with him, which he always declined, but there was no doubt that she would choose him as her mate and that infuriated the other males. To them this outsider could not measure up to being the pack leader's mate, and maybe pack leader himself some day. That had been why they forced the pack leader to keep the bastard from their lair. They had used her paranoia, thinking of a thousand things that could be wrong with him. Thus he was nowhere in sight and soon they would arrange a hunting accident that would take care of it permanently.  
  
Talbain ran all out, dashing from roof to roof with inhuman speed and agility. He was on his own hunt, wolf and man both focused on the same goal, finding the pack that stalked the city streets. The night air was chilled, but Talbain did not notice, his thick coat could literally freeze and the werewolf would have thought of it as a slight chill. However the fantastic coat of fur was not the werewolf's greatest gift, which was the nose. The wolf's sense of smell was extraordinary; the sweet/sour smell of humans was fresh on the wind, as well as the smells that accompany humanity. Car exhausts, smoke, the smell of grease and fried meat, where all stitches in the quilt of smells, that were carried on the cold night air. Talbain however was interested in only one smell, the faint aroma that roused his blood to burn. The smell of werewolf.  
  
The pack leader watched contently as the shadow like figure move below her, she loved watching him, especially when he was unaware. She had followed him, oblivious to the warnings of the pack's males.  
  
They are jealous fools she thought. They have to be, he is magnificent, the most beautiful of our kind I have ever seen, her thoughts continued. She had wanted him as her mate ever since he had joined the pack. He was the normal seven feet, as a werewolf, his fur was a midnight black except for his muzzle, hands, feet, and guard hairs that were snow white. He was muscular, but not to the degree of the hulking monsters that she detested among their kind, his muscle was lean like as runner or swimmer. Which she loved! He was a fantastic hunter, though she found his hatred of human sport a bit dismaying.  
  
However as a leader that little eccentric behavior could be easily dismissed, unless the males had been right in one of their accusations and he was a human lover. She dismissed that possibility from her mind; there were a thousand reasons why werewolves refused to hunt humans. The royal werewolves themselves had dismissed it as uncleanness only fit for barbarians, but she didn't mind being a barbarian.  
  
Felicia woke, a nightmare startling her from her slumber. She couldn't remember what it had been about, but she didn't care as long as Talbain was around. Her emerald green eyes scanned the room, searching for the familiar form, but was disappointed when he was no were to be seen.  
  
No problem, he probably when out, she thought, the haze that came with sleep still thick in her mind, but as she got up the haze disappeared and she peered out the window only to see what she had expected, a full moon. Something is wrong, Jon would never risk going into the city, she thought, as her face became a mask of worry.  
  
Felicia inhaled deeply for a moment until she had the scent, the scent of her friend, her love Jon Talbain. She silently walked to the balcony, then as if a flash a part of her dream came back. It wasn't pleasant, Talbain stood on the balcony, a werewolf, and he smiled a lycanthropic grin, then his face became serious and said "Good-bye Felicia I'll be back for you, trust me!" but she knew he wouldn't return.  
  
Felicia fell to the ground, tears in her eyes at the sudden remembrance of her nightmare. It was just a dream she pleaded with herself, and got to her feet. She looked out at the shimmering city from her balcony and thus began her search for Jon Talbain. 


	3. chapter 3

Chapter 3, and for anyone thoroughly confused with this fic I'll explain a few things at the end of this chapter.  
  
The black and white werewolf grinned to himself, because he knew the pack leader watched him. She had done so quiet a number of times in the past two months, even as they both held their human shapes, but of course he had always seemed unknowing of her actions. He glimpsed up toward the four-story building that he was sure was her hiding place and laughed to himself once again. Then he smelled it, a scent he did not know, but then realized it must be a pack member he had not met. "Who are you?" he asked into the seemingly endless darkness, well endless to humans, but he was a werewolf and watched as the other appeared clear as day. "Who are you?" he repeated. The other stepped into the light of a near by streetlight and he gasped, as golden eyes like his own met his gaze.  
  
Jon Talbain stepped from the darkness, his face a mask of rage. His blood burned and the wolf slowly snarled in his mind. "Who are you?" the other werewolf asked once again, the anger plain and seething in his voice. Talbain bared his fangs and snarled in a voice so low that humans would never have heard it. " I will kill you." he growled, his werewolf voice mimicking the sound of a real wolf. "That will not be as easy as you think my friend!" the other said baring his own fangs. "HoooWooo!" Talbain howled a battle cry as he lunged at the black and white foe before him. The other dodged away nimbly slashing at Talbain with his claws. Talbain howled once again, in pain and increasing fury. He jumped forward as if to lunge, fooling the other werewolf as he bounced from a wall, to land a heavy kick in his chest. This time it was his turn to howl in pain. This one is fast and quiet skilled. he thought to himself. He too felt the wolf rise in his mind, but for him it was simply his old friend coming to his aid. "Let us take this to the roof tops, too many people could get hurt down here!" the other werewolf said jumping to a windowsill and starting his ascent. For a moment those words stuck in Talbain's mind, why would a wild one worry about human lives? but that thought was pushed away as the wolf howled in his mind, a trick! it roared and propelled Talbain upward after the other werewolf.  
  
The rooftop was more open, the black and white werewolf thanked God. He knew he could never have won in that alleyway; the other werewolf was just to fast. Then as if summoned by his thoughts the other werewolf sprang over the edge of the roof to face him, his eyes glowing with rage. He landed in a battle stance and the black and white wolf was now truly convinced of his skill. Claw strikes raked forward inches from his face as he dodged right, toward a cooling unit. He burst into a run and reached the unit as the other jump kicked, missing, but just barely. " Hold still and let's see what you've got!" the other taunted. Still he dodged each blow and finally parried what he could not block until the other began to breath a bit more harshly. " Is that the best you have?" the black and white werewolf asked his voice filled with arrogance he did not feel. However to his dismay the other simply smiled and said "No!" as an aura of blue-green fire erupted from his body. " Beast Cannon!" he roared. He shot forward like a bullet and the black and white werewolf knew he would not block this one.  
  
Now to anyone wondering what on earth I've done to the Night Warrior/ Darkstalkers story line, I 'll. only say that this fic takes place in an alternate universe, where Demitri Maximov is banished to the human world where he takes control, like Night Warriors. However in this world Pyron never appeared and Demitri and Morrigan marry after their initial battle. For seven years they rule Makai and Earth, until Demitri's defeat at the hands of Jon Talbain. Shortly after this the Dark Messiah Jedah is reborn. Jedah brings together the most powerful Darkstalkers in both realms, including Talbain and Demitri for a tournament for their souls. For Jedah wishes to merge all the souls of both worlds to create ever lasting harmony, not caring that this would eliminate all individuality. However Jedah is defeated when the fighters of his tournament combine their powers in an all out effort, but the effort leaves Maximov dying. Thus the world is free, or is it, because in the world of the Darkstalkers it seems peace is always short lived. 


	4. Chapter 4

The wolf roared in triumph as Talbain blasted forward, powered by his soul energy into his Beast Cannon attack.  
  
The other werewolf only had time to step backward, palm forward and yell "Light Force!" as Talbain's attack connected. No normal Darkstalker could ever survive that move; only nobles and a few of the strongest had ever stood against this move, so it was over. Or so Talbain thought until the dust and smoke cleared and the other werewolf stood there, palm still extended, and a shield of white energy pressed against his palm. Suddenly the shield flickered and blinked out of existence.  
  
"I underestimated you," the other werewolf regarded Talbain, his breath a bit labored as well.  
  
" I thought you another of my father's lackeys!" Talbain was astonished, even the wolf was silent in his mind, and he realized he faced no ordinary opponent.  
  
The other stepped forward, energy loss plain to see, he didn't try to hide it but then Talbain though, neither did he.  
  
" Let me show you a trick of my own!" he said like a child with a new toy, which would have made Talbain laugh, had it not been for the look in his golden eyes.  
  
The other smiled ruefully to himself as he stared at his up turned palm. An aura of black energy flared around him for a split second then in his palm he held a ball of the same black energy. I don't like this! Talbain though to himself as the other smashed the ebony orb with his other hand. Then all was silent as Talbain looked on, nothing happened.  
  
"You call that an attack." Talbain began, but was cut off as black energy erupted from the other werewolf's clenched hands.  
  
The energy crackled and blazed as a smile stretched across the other's face. The energy finally reached its form in a few moments, a form Talbain recognized, it was a sword, he had created a sword of pure soul energy.  
  
"Nega Sword." he said, a large satisfied grin on his lupine features.  
  
Felicia stopped, she couldn't pace Talbain, and in fact she had been following his trail for at least an hour. Of course that had been mainly because Talbain did not want to be followed, but he had taught her more about tracking than he knew, so she found his scent, regardless of the fact he had taken to the sewers to avoid any such tracking. Then she had quite a time jumping buildings, she was a Darkstalker, but nothing could match a werewolf in pure speed and agility. Now she found herself wandering alleyways, it seem as if his scent had disappeared. A sudden pain in her back caught Felicia off guard. She fell face down onto the concrete.  
  
" Don't tell me that's all you've got?" a voice greeted her from behind.  
  
Felicia spun to meet her assailant, claws extended from their furry sheathes and was surprised at what faced her. It, or she Felicia amended was a werewolf. Blue-green eyes met her own, and her golden wine colored fur blazed in the harsh glow of a nearby street lamp. She regarded Felicia for a moment, sniffing the air, and staring a hole through her. Then she finally spoke again, in the same sarcastic, arrogant tone.  
  
" You are with that other one, the blue-gray werewolf?"  
  
"Talbain?" Felicia asked the worry plain in her voice.  
  
" Whatever his name is, don't worry though my love has probably killed him already!" she said, voice dripping with venom.  
  
"What?" Felicia said, her voice flat with grief.  
  
"He is dead!" she repeated smugly.  
  
"Cat Scratch Fever!" Felicia yelled grief was quickly replaced with rage as she dashed forward claws slashing like mad.  
  
The werewolf simply jumped backward and began parrying her blows. Rage burned like an inferno, consuming her, scorching her soul till she could take no more.  
  
"I'll kill you, then I'll kill your love, do you hear me?" she raged.  
  
Talbain somersaulted avoiding another sword strike. He wondered how long he could keep it up, the other werewolf was much faster than Talbain had expected and was running him ragged. He dodged again, this time his fur crackled at the nearness of the strange dark energy. The other slashed with two-handed swings; Talbain had hoped he would over commit to a swing and leave an opening, but know such luck, he was a pro swordsman. Talbain jumped back from another swing and slammed painfully into the building's cooling unit, he was trapped. He felt the wolf rise once again in his mind and his hand ran over something hard. A metal pipe his mind cried even as he clutched it in one hand. Talbain swung, swung as hard as only he could.  
  
The black and white werewolf dodged the swing, only to have the pipe reverse direction and smash painfully into his left shoulder. He howled, not only in pain, but rage. He stumbled for a moment, as agony dashed through his arm in hot needles. That moment was all Talbain needed, jumping to his feet he kicked the other werewolf with all his strength. The other fell to his knees as the companion agony to his shoulder coursed through his midsection. A wide grin stretched across Talbain's features, the wolf knew soon the other's blood would stain his claws and fangs. Suddenly, like a hammer blow the man's consciousness knocked the wolf back into the darkness of his sub consciousness, he was in control, and he chided himself for getting caught up in the battle rage.  
  
Talbain fell backward holding his arm he had forgotten his opponent, the other werewolf had slashed his wrist. He looked down at the damage done to his wrist. The wound didn't bleed, in fact it had been cauterized, the burn was ugly and red but he could move it without to much discomfort.  
  
" I cut you? I'm sorry, but you'll be more sorry!" the black and white werewolf taunted, as Talbain got to his feet. Talbain howled once again, the sound echoed through the buildings like a thunderclap, a force of nature and rage incarnate. Then horror, Talbain fell to the ground, clutching at his wrist.  
  
" What's the matter?" the other werewolf asked in fane sympathy. Then his own grin stretched across his features.  
  
"That is the side affect of my little trick. This sword," he said gesturing at the black energy sword in his hands " feeds on negative emotion, especially that of the dark hearted, in effect allowing me to use a person's dark heart against them!"  
  
"The burn you feel, is the sword's power reacting to your anger, rage, frustration, all of those negative emotions!" he said shooting Jon another smile.  
  
Negative emotion? Talbain thought and realized that it was true; the burning had eased, as he was now calm. However Talbain realized he should sill act like he was in pain, else the other find something worse to do to him and he wasn't sure the slash would allow him to defend himself.  
  
Then suddenly the words of his grandfather flooded to the surface of his mind "Calm yourself! The martial arts are not about conflict, but serenity." It was odd to Talbain that these words would come to his mind, his grandfather, had only taught him the martial arts, he had been a good man, but had died when he was young. To Talbain he was no different than any other nice stranger he had met. Those words however would not be denied as they drummed through his mind time and again.  
  
The wolf howled in Talbain's mind, a howl of pure rage; rage at the man that held him from his battle, rage at the other werewolf for daring to challenge him, and rage at the world itself, he was deep into the battle rage that lived within every werewolf. The wolf snapped, raging out of control, but only the man's will thwarted him, a will he would break for his freedom.  
  
Grandfather was right! The thought came to Talbain, as the sword's burn ebbed from the agony that had taken his senses.  
  
Then he stumbled, an agony worse than before, racked his whole body. At first he thought of how the sword's power could hurt him, while he was so calm, then he realized it wasn't the sword.  
  
Then he saw him, the wolf met him in his mind and attacked. Then agony like a thousand white-hot needles, pierced his skull, he knew if it continued he would die. His vision blurred, his every move hurt like every bone in his body had been pounded to dust, and finally, mercifully everything went black.  
  
Felicia was battered and bloody. Though to Felicia's amusement so was her opponent, so miss "I'm undefeatable" can bleed and stuff her trash talk! Felicia thought to herself. Their fight had been evenly matched, after Felicia had calmed down, a result of hearing Talbain's familiar howl, she knew he was fighting close by, but she had her own fight to finish first. "Rolling Bucker!" she shouted, somersaulting into a ball and slamming into the werewolf's chest. She fell back stunned, but recoiled like a true fighter hopping to her feet. "Still think you're going to kill me? Not likely vermin!" The werewolf laughed. "Crimson Claw!" She roared as Felicia prepared to block the move that she had become increasingly intimate with. The werewolf charged forward, her clawed hand glowing with red soul energy. Then just as she had three times before she clawed at the air, which erupted into a hailstorm of small soul energy blast. Each blast stung like acid as it hit; fur, skin, and seemed to leek into her body  
  
The black and white werewolf hoisted Talbain over his shoulder and jumped to the ground.  
  
Felicia smiled as once again a look of disbelief spread across the features of her werewolf nemesis. She wondered how the cat girl had taken four Crimson Claw attacks that was impossible, even the most stubborn and powerful in her pack had yielded after two, but this pathetic creature had taken four and was sill attacking.  
  
"Delta Kick!' Felicia yelled as she attacked with the soul energy enforced jump kick, she caught the werewolf square, sending her flying face first into a nearby wall. "How'd you like that one!' Felicia laughed, a smirk smugly planted on her features. The werewolf struggled to her feet. She glared in pure hatred and rage, willing the cat woman's death she spit a mouth full of blood/saliva strait at Felicia. Felicia dodged the horrid projectile and almost fell as she hit something behind her. She turned only to be face to face, or face to chest rather because he was much taller, but he was a werewolf and not Talbain.  
  
"Who are you?" she yelled at the stranger. He didn't answer, only looked down into her eyes with the same golden eyes as Talbain. "Who are you?" she repeated with far less forcefulness. Then from behind she heard the answer "My love!" the wine colored werewolf said. Felicia had forgotten the creature in her confrontation with this stranger, but she had more important things to worry about like this killer who had fought and did God knows what to Talbain.  
  
The black and white werewolf stared at the cat girl. She was beautiful; lean bodied, though a little short with emerald green eyes, luminous blue hair, and white fur that covered her body in an almost garment like way. He looked into her eyes and almost melted, they were wondrous, but immediately he saw she was troubled. What had Tigress done this time he wondered? Looking over at the wine colored werewolf he knew whatever it was, it wasn't Tigress, she been hurt too badly to really be a threat. Then it struck him he was her worry. Then as if to accent his revelation Felicia attacked. "Cat Scratch Fever!" she roared, attacking with the claw striking attack. He dodged backward avoiding most of the strikes, but nearly fell as pain laced through his midsection. Damn, he must have broken some of my ribs the black and white werewolf thought as he remembered the other werewolf's kick.  
  
Felicia pressed her attack as the werewolf gripped at his ribs, she had him and he knew it. Then suddenly, in a blur of motions, the black and white werewolf watched as Tigress jumped to her feet bounced across the ally and landed behind his attacker. With speed even he didn't know she possessed she caught the cat girl on the side of the head with the flat of her claws.  
  
Felicia didn't feel the blow, just its aftershock, as pain exploded in her skull and slowly every thing went black, her last sight the satisfied smirk of that wine colored bitch. 


End file.
